


Rocks

by GintokiDreamGirl



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Mental Instability, Multi, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 04:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30049869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GintokiDreamGirl/pseuds/GintokiDreamGirl
Summary: After he left, you were forced to deal with the mess he made. You had to experience eviction alone, and you had to admit yourself for help. After three years, he shows up hand in hand with some girl and a smile on his face.Levi Ackerman ruined your life, and now he was acting like nothing happened.
Relationships: Levi Ackerman & Reader
Kudos: 2





	Rocks

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This story touches many hard subjects that some may not be comfortable with. This will be the only warning, so reader’s discretion is advised.

Sunlight filtered in through a small window with broken, off-white plastic blinds. It was missing a few, and the strings that held it together were tinted yellow from smoke and grime. 

You groaned as you came to. A sharp pain pulsed in your head, and you slowly opened your eyes. The first thing that hit you was the smell of puke. You tried to turn, but felt crust at your mouth and wetness against your face. No matter how many times you’ve woken up in your own puke, it never got much easier to handle when you were coming down. Levi was going to be pissed, unless.... 

You moved your arms which were sore and protesting. You pushed yourself up from the bare mattress and slowly looked over the body next to you. 

Levi was angled away, his head about three feet from you. His pale skin was thin and under his eyes were purple. He was on his side with his arms in front of him and his legs curled up. No throw up today. 

You tried to ignore the woozy feeling you got every time you moved and finally stood on wobbly legs. You had to close your eyes whenever you turned to help how sick you felt. You bent over and collected the sheet you rested your head on. It was a preventative measure in case this happened because it was pretty common. Your bile only made it onto the sheet, but it soaked through and into the mattress. It was okay, though. A day or two would dry it enough to not smell it as clearly. 

You made your way into your small bathroom and dumped the fabric in the tub. There was no curtain on the shower rod, and clothes littered the floor. You pulled your panties down to sit on the toilet to relieve yourself. It felt good as you emptied your bladder after being unconscious so long. You untied the rubber strip from your left bicep and tossed it to the floor. The smell permeating the room told you that you were as dehydrated as usual. Water was something that was hardly in your diet as was food in general. You looked down to your knees and saw their anatomy with ease. There was hardly anything to you besides skin and bones these days. 

You finished and looked to the paper holder only to see it empty. After a sigh, you stood and pulled your panties up without wiping, flushing and closing the lid. 

You stood in front of the sink and turned the hot water tap and waited for it to heat up. It took forever in this shitty complex. You took the opportunity to examine yourself in the mirror. 

Your eyes were sunken in, and your cheekbones were prominent. Your hair was greasy and matted on one side. Your collarbone was littered with bruises and hickies from your boyfriend who was still out in the living room. You looked down to your arms and admired the scarring across the ill-colored skin. So many years of self harm, and now you were clean of it as a trade in to another form of it. Holes and scabs from needles were the problem now. It was getting harder to find veins after all this time. 

At the age of twenty two, you were already an addict. It was easy to deny at first, explaining you only liked it to relax, but here you were on a prescription for a sexually transmitted disease you contracted from a dealer a week ago. 

Levi didn’t care if you had to sell yourself because he was in it as hard as you were. Your natural beauty and charm that once got you leniency on late assignments or bigger tips as a server now earned you extra opportunities to get a gram in exchange for a blowjob or a quickie around the corner. Thank god for penicillin. 

After you were able to splash your face with warm water to wash off your drool and puke, you turned off the tap and began to work on your dirty sheet in the tub. 

You had to do things a certain way or else they wouldn’t get done. A come down was tougher than any form of depression you have ever experienced, and if you sat down, you would be down for a long time. Whenever you woke up, you had to do as much as you could while you were already moving if you wanted anything done. This meant cleaning the puke with soap and water in your tub right away. 

An hour later, Levi finally woke up as you hung your sheet on the balcony. You heard the door open behind you, and he stepped out with two cigarettes and a butane torch. 

“Couldn’t find a lighter,” he grumbled and handed a stick to you. 

You took it and watched him light his own first. Levi was beautiful. His hair fell over his eyebrows and almost into his cool grey eyes. He always wore black, and dirt looked good on him. 

You leaned over and held the end of your cigarette to his and inhaled to help it light. After it successfully did, you both sat on the floor of the cramped balcony and enjoyed the outside sounds of kids playing and dogs barking in the distance. 

It was moments like this that made you feel alive. It was the pain in your head and nausea in your stomach. Your joints hurt and your muscles were weak, but in this moment, you felt your whole body with uncomfortable clarity. Your ass ached because the floor was hard, but you refused to move. You sat in a shirt and underwear, thinking about how peaceful the moment was and how much nicer it would be if you were high and delightfully numb. 

“I had fifty three missed calls from my sister.” He broke the silence and took another deep drag. He had one knee up and rested his forearm on it. 

“I haven’t checked my phone yet. I don’t even know where it is.” 

He smirked and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back to rest on the wall. 

You could remember the moment you met Levi like it was yesterday. You were both in college. He was a year ahead. You had just lost your virginity and you felt on top of the world. You worked at a restaurant near campus that was open late at night, and he would sometimes come in to study with tea and coffee if he was tired that day. He walked in and you felt your eyes glued to him. You went over to greet him and take his order even though it wasn’t your section. It was worth it. 

His voice wasn’t what you expected. He was so neat and mature looking, but he was young and pretty. He came in more and more often after that, and you found yourself sitting with him and chatting more often than you did serve him. Naturally, you guys exchanged contact information and met up for casual dates to movies and libraries and then meeting at each other’s dorms and apartments. 

Sex with Levi was even better than kissing him. He radiated heat and control, and came alive whenever you were assertive. You knew you were done for when he started distracting you from your classes and schoolwork. To be fair, you did that to him, too. 

You two lived and breathed each other, and he was everything you needed. It didn’t matter what was happening around you as long as Levi was in your bed at the end of the day, enveloping you in his warmth and snarky remarks. 

Your family hated him. At first it was because he had no respect for them, but then they received calls from your college about your financial status and your falling GPA which impacted the amount of financial aid you were able to accept. Your relationship was beginning to become a plethora of red flags that you both ignored for the sake of love. 

After six months, he had you take a hit from a glass pipe. You refused outright, but he promised it wasn’t like what you saw on tv. He told you that you were bigger than it and just wanted to feel good with you. You shook as you placed it to your mouth and inhaled the strange smoke. A day later, you felt like lead and missed your little sister’s concert. That should have been when you left, but you stayed. You lived in his arms and in his bed. 

Now, you both were a couple of dropouts who barely scraped by for a studio in the worst neighborhood you knew. When you looked into the mirror, you knew you deserved better and that you were slowly killing yourself. When you looked into his eyes, though, you melted and didn’t care. He was all you wanted and he was struggling, too. How could you ever leave him to do this alone?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
